


Smile Like The Devil

by Dark_Divinity



Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: and mentions of gore and death, gross evil bois in love, i literally dont know how to tag this????, themes of sadism and masochism, uh theres like a 'red shirt' death in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Divinity/pseuds/Dark_Divinity
Summary: Inspired by the dialogue prompt: "That's so cute. You think you're scary. But mister, i've seen scary...and you ain't got his smile."





	Smile Like The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I did not use the prompt word for word. I have never written something like this before. I'm really just exploring my headcanons for SG Ratchet and Drift here. They flirt a bit, and kiss, and are just generally gross crazy people. uh. enjoy? I labeled this as mature purely for safety sake because i don't know what i'm doing.

Drift huffed dramatically, like this whole situation bored him and was merely a minor inconvenience.

Which was in fact, quite true; but he mostly did it to further piss off the Decepticon currently trying to interrogate him. The soldier glowered at him in a way he _supposed_ was meant to be menacing, but frankly these soft sparked idiots were hard to take seriously sometimes.

“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that your stay is neither permanent nor a concern _Autobot_ , but I assure you, if you continue to _resist_ -“

Drift shot forward very suddenly, his restraints creaking ominously, startling the ‘con into stumbling backwards and reaching for the gun on their hip. He smiled, the shape of it sweet but the glint in his optics dark and acidic, finials tilted forward in interest, “You’ll what? Torture me?”

He gave a bark of laughter, settling back into his chair in a relaxed pose, like an opportunistic predator simply biding his time for the perfect moment. Drift raked his gaze over the fool in front of him again, noting the tightness of their stance and the way their fingers trembled slightly.

“It’s cute, you know, watching you try to be scary.” He keeps his tone soft, flirty, but his smile turns wicked as he leans forward slowly, as if about to share a secret, “But I’ve seen scary… _and you ain’t got his smile._ ”

Just then an alarm began to blare and this time the Decepticon did pull his weapon, quickly slapping the lockdown codes into the door panel and keeping his weapon trained on Drift’s still shackled form. Drift merely leaned back and waited patiently, he’d certainly waited quite a while already for his Conjunx to come retrieve him, he could wait a little longer.

He hardly paid much attention to the ‘con sharing the interrogation chamber with him after that point, only vaguely listening to the chatter on their coms. It sounded like _the good doctor_ was making quite a mess out there. Eventually the chatter died and Drift onlined his optics to see that he now had the Decepticon’s full attention, gun pointed directly at his chest. And for a split second he thought he might actually die here…

…but Ratchet does so enjoy his timely entrances.

The door pinged with the override and swished open, and the ‘con froze, visibly terrified of who may be standing behind them.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Ratchet warned, still in the shadows of the hallway.

And then that familiar bulk calmly moved into the room, his black and teal armor glinting in the pale light, slick and dripping with energon. Scarred face set into a sadistic smirk, and crimson eyes sparkling with dark mirth.

The ‘con made to spin and shoot at the new arrival, but Ratchet was quicker; grabbing the mech’s wrist and twisting it into an _unfortunate_ position, forcing them to drop their gun, before slamming them down on the table in front of Drift. The grip he had on their neck was crushing.

“How nice of you to finally show up, _dearest._ ” Drift mocked playfully.

Ratchet made a face, but ignored the con struggling under his weight in order to lock optics with Drift, “Complaining already? Perhaps I’ll leave you here.”

Drift giggled and leaned forward, their noses almost brushing, “No you won’t.”

Ratchet squinted and rumbled his engine, squishing the con further into the table as he closed the distance between them. Drift hummed into the kiss, the taste of processed energon passing between them, and gasped when Ratchet roughly bit into his lip before pulling back.

“Brute.” He scolded, but it was belied by the fact they both knew he liked it that way.

Ratchet snorted, “Snake.”

With little more patience _or interest_ , Ratchet crushed the helm of the mech still squirming under him and then shunted the body onto the floor like a discarded toy. He made quick work of Drift’s restraints and _tsked_ at the marks Drift knew were all over his wrists.

_“Fraggers.”_ He growled while rubbing soothing circles into the cables and armor there.

Drift hummed appreciatively before pressing himself chest to chest with Ratchet, throwing his arms around Ratchet’s neck, “So, what _did_ take you so long?” He asked more out of genuine curiosity than anything else.

Ratchet smirked and purred, arms wrapping possessively around Drift’s waist, smearing gore all over the pretty speedster, ** _“I was having fun~”_**


End file.
